a thousand times I tempted fate;
There once was that need to leave, he had never intended to stay; just long enough to find out if his sister was here or not. In that time he had met others, others who in some way had a hand in making him want to stay. Daenerys, and the storm. Viora, and her need for revenge. And Fjallraven, his friend who knew of Everlyse. Once he had learned that she was indeed here it was like a cemented answer he would stay but no longer just for her but for those others as well. He had never been one to care before but he can feel the warmth at knowing that this could be, that he could get the life that Orra always wanted for him and have things he never once imagined so. He is just Jericho here, a lost soul trying to find his self. It is a journey he knows he will never forget, one that will test him and bend him but never break him. In the end it will complete him.
It is now he stands within the woodlands, orange eyes looking over the terrain he has yet to see, one of the lands he had not ventured within. Closer to the rancid smell of the swamp than the fresh scent of the pines. The murky soil making a suction sound every time he shifts his weight. For a moment the stench burns and yet settles like a familiar sore within his lungs. For back home they had a similar land such as this, it housed the bones and corpses of the fallen. A graveyard that many avoided and yet so many called home due to it's eerie nature. Despite the need to leave this place he cannot force himself to move, instead finding an odd comfort in the marsh. Even though the memories associated to a place such as this were not even fitting to heard.
It is when the tell tale sound of a snapped log that grabs his attention. Ears perking as orange eyes snap towards the direction the sound came from, and so he moves. Paws covered in the thick slime as his scarred face swings left and right. As voices of others whisper in his ear, he slows. Coming upon two females. One who was drenched in the foul water and the other whom held the fresh kill of a rabbit. His approach is timid, ears lay lax upon his skull as his head is low to the ground. Orange eyes shifting between the two as he assumes what has occurred before he had arrived. As he looks to the water logged female, searching her form for sighs of any wounds from her fall as words seem to tumble. "A-Are you hurt?.. Can I helllp?.." He pauses, shifting nervously unsure if he should have stopped, though he had yet to meet the hatred of another he knows they are here - somewhere, and to taste that would not benefit him, if anything it would set him back. Fury was like a dangling rabbit before his jaws, tempting and teasing. And he had not been sober long enough to resist it should it happen.
Orange eyes see the sinking log before they move to the other female. Cheeks beginning the slow burn at the fact his is outnumbered. As he gives his warped and misused attempt of a smile that falls short and appears more like a grimace that matches his scarred face but it is the gentle words of greeting that contradicts. "Hello." And then he looks back, back at the murky waters that the other female has no doubt fell within. An awkward silence settling in, unsure what to do now that he had came into the picture. Maybe he had interrupted them? so he does what he does best, blurt out shit. "Iheardthelogbreak..wanted to make sureeverythingwasok." Teeth soon gnaw on his wayward tongue as he gets the taste of iron down his throat as he clears his throat, nervously looking at the two before he tries again. "I mean, I heard the log just wanted to make sure no one was hurt." And then he is silent, cursing his inability to have confidence without the crutch of violence, for it makes him appear weak when he knows he is not.
Jericho. six - no mate - no imprint - nowhere |